Home Alone

Home alone; lunch at home alone.

Since more than a week ago and for the entire months of July, August, and September, I've been paying rent for Angelique and Aubrey to live in a condo unit in Quezon City, close to their workplaces. We do major groceries once a month together, but they pay for their unit's light and water and from their salaries. They come home only on weekends. They love it so far.

I agreed to this three-month arrangement, which we might be doing once in a while, for many reasons, among them that, like rehearsing for a play, I want my grandchildren to adequately rehearse taking on complete independence when I finally die, no matte how, either suddenly or slowly. I have too often seen children and grandchildren, young and adults, become lost, flounder, and grieve forever after their parents and grandparents die--and I rightfully blame those parents and grandparents for not preparing them for it. 

As for myself, I am loving my three-month solitude. Rayven comes in from the cafe to do day and night chores when necessary. Other than that, I feel no need for the companionship of other people. I continue to shun visitors.

Am also taking advantage of this time period to overhaul the ground floor and unclutter all of the rooms.